ent sets off thar in Washington
and names a-many a thing that I shall do and that I shan't do.
Howsomever, they is but one thing hit will come here and watch out to see
ef I keep rules on--and that's the matter o' moonshine whiskey.
Guv'ment," he repeated meditatively but with rising rancour, "what has
the guv'ment ever done fer me, that I should be asked to do so much for
hit? I put the case thisaway. That man raises corn and grinds it to meal
and makes it into bread. I raise corn and grind hit to meal and make
clean, honest whiskey. The man that makes the bread pays no tax; guv'ment
says I shall pay a tax--an' I say I will not, by God!"

The big voice had risen to a good deal of feeling before old Jephthah
made an end.

"Nor I wouldn't neither," bleated Jim Cal in comical antiphon.

In the light from the open doorway Creed's face looked uneasy.

"But you don't think--you wouldn't--" he began and then broke off.

Old Jephthah shook his head.

"I ain't got no blockade still," he asserted sweepingly. "I made my last
run of moonshine whiskey many a year ago. I reckon two wrongs don't make
a right."

Creed's dismay increased. Inexperienced boy, he had not expected to
encounter such feeling in the discussion of this the one topic upon which
your true mountaineer of the remote districts can never be anything but
passionate, embittered, at bay.

"You name the crime of makin' wildcat whiskey," the old man's deep,
accusing voice went on, after a little silence. "It ain't no crime--an'
you know it--an' no guv'ment o' mortal men can make a crime out'n it. As
for the foolishness of it," he dropped his chin on his breast, his black
eyes looked out broodingly, his great beard rose against his lips and
muffled his tones, "I reckon the foolishness of a thing is what each
feller has to find out for hisself," he said. "Daddies has been tryin'
since the time of Adam to let their knowin' it sarve for their sons; but
ef one of 'em has made the plan work yit, I ain't heard on it. Nor the
guv'ment can't neither. A man'll take his punishment for a meanness an'
l'arn by it; but to be jailed for what's his right makes an outlaw of
him, an' always will. Good Lord, Creed! What set you an' me off on this
tune? Young feller, you ort to be down yon dancin' with the gals, instead
of here talking foolishness to a old man like me."

Creed arose to his tall young height and glanced uncertainly from his
host to the lighted room from which came